


Apples

by RebKa (RkB)



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Dick Grayson Has Abandonment Issues, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson Whump, Dick Grayson is Robin, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective Clark Kent, Young Dick Grayson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:14:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28261488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RkB/pseuds/RebKa
Summary: A 9 year old Dick Grayson runs away after a fight with Bruce.Luckily his favourite Uncle Kent is there to put his broken heart back together again.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Clark Kent
Comments: 17
Kudos: 193





	Apples

**Author's Note:**

> Just a light angst/comfort story I had in my mind for a bit.
> 
> I love Dick and Clark Kent stories. I am just making things up as I go along, so timelines and accurate portrayals of characters could be way off! But, I tried my best! 
> 
> Please, please comment! I love reading comments! 
> 
> Also, if anybody has any story ideas for me in the Dick Grayson genre, please let me know! I’m trying to stay in the practice of writing since I’m new at this! 
> 
> xo

Superman zipped to Gotham at the quickest speed he could manage to fly. The very chilly December air thankfully having no effect on the Kryptonian.

He tried to tune in to a very particular young person using his super-hearing. He listened for a heartbeat or any other auditory clues that might lead him to his target. 

After a few minutes of flying, Clark Kent heard a weary little voice singing,

_“Moş Crăciun cu plete dalbe  
A sosit de prin nămeţi  
Şi aduce daruri multe  
La fetiţe şi băieţi....”_

_’Bingo!’_ Clark thought to himself as he descended towards a very dilapidated old treehouse located on the outskirts of Wayne Manor. 

He knew the language to be Romanian, but did not understand the words. Superman flew towards the sound of the singing and peered into the shabby, unstable looking structure. 

“Dick?”

Dick jumped. Clearly startled by the unexpected visitor hovering outside of the damp wood of the treehouse. 

“Uncle Clark!” 

The young boy ran and jumped out of the treehouse head first and into the air.

Superman caught the child he considered to be his nephew in his strong arms with ease. He shook his head amazed at how fearless Dick was - just leaping and trusting Clark to catch him like that. 

“There you are, little buddy! I have been looking everywhere for my favourite superhero!”

The slightly damp and shivering 9 year old clutched onto Clark tightly and buried his face into the larger man’s neck. Clark felt his neck grow wet with his nephew’s warm tears.

“I’m not a hero anymore...B said so.” He sniffed, voice muffled as he spoke with his face still buried into Clark.

Clark froze in shock briefly before remembering that hypothermia was a very real threat for the human boy in his arms,

“Dick, let’s get you back to my apartment and warmed up. We can have some hot cocoa and talk more there, ok?”

Dick nodded as Clark set him down and the entryway of the treehouse. 

Clark got a better chance to look at Dick now that he was standing in front of him. Clark could see the split lip and a decent sized lump on the boy’s forehead. He did a quick visual X-ray and couldn’t see any major internal injuries. 

Superman unclipped his cape and draped it around Dick’s tiny frame. 

Clark remembered in that moment, as the cape swallowed up the boy, how small and young Dick truly was. His bubbly, larger than life personality always made Clark forget those facts. 

The red cape covered up Dick’s thin pyjama bottoms and night shirt, but Clark spied the ‘Superman’ slippers that Dick had on his sockless feet and he felt his heart warm with even more protective love for this young kid. 

Looking down at the 9 year old, Clark asked a question he knew Dick would be thrilled at,

“You ready to go flying with me, Dickie?”

Dick looked up and gave Clark a watery but huge smile and exclaimed,

“I’m always ready to fly!”

——///——

Clark arrived safely at his apartment with Dick and grabbed the kid a spare change of clothes and a towel so that he could take a hot shower.

Clark was glad he still had a spare set of clothes of Dick’s from when Dick had slept over earlier that year. He just hoped that Dick hadn’t grown out of them yet. 

“I’ll just be in the kitchen making us some hot chocolate, Dick. Come join me when you’re done showering.”

“Thanks, Uncle Clark!”

Clark smiled. Dick really was a very well mannered and delightful kid. His smile quickly faded when he remembered Alfred’s frantic call for Clark’s help earlier that evening:

~

_‘Mr. Kent. I apologize for the bother, but I assure you that I would not call if you were not needed urgently._

_You see, Master Bruce and Master Dick returned from their patrols today in the early morning hours. I heard them arguing and shortly after, young Master Dick fled the manor. Master Bruce is upset and stubbornly refuses to look for him. He assumes Master Dick will return when he pleases, but it has been several hours now and Master Dick had not dressed for the cold weather._

_Dick has not eaten and he may have been injured during the patrols according to Master Wayne. It is not like the young lad to disappear for so long._

_May I please request your assistance, Mr. Kent?’_

~

Coming back to the present, and knowing how worried sick Alfred must be, Clark picked up his phone and called Wayne Manor. 

“Alfred? Clark speaking. I’ve got him, he’s safe and I’ll make sure he gets some rest. I will try to figure out what’s happening and call you tomorrow.”

Clark swears he can hear the heartbeat of the older man slow down with relief, 

“Thank you very much, Mr. Kent. I will make further attempts to talk some sense into Master Bruce.”

With that, the two men bid one another farewell for the night. 

After a while of waiting in the kitchen for young Dick, Clark knocked on the bathroom door to see what was keeping his nephew,

“Kiddo, is everything alright in there?”

Clark heard an almost panicked shuffling and very faint sniffling from the other side of the door. A couple of moments later the smiling little boy walked past him and to the kitchen where he sat at the kitchen table.

Clark microwaved the cocoa to reheat the liquid and passed one of the mugs to Dick.

He looked at Dick who tried to keep a performer’s smile plastered on his face. Clark remarked to himself that the kid was doing a really good job at faking that expression of happiness, and if not for Dick’s red, puffy eyes, Clark might have fallen for the act. 

“You feeling ok, buddy? How’s that bump on your noggin’?”

“Hurts a little, I guess,” Dick answered while shrugging his shoulders.

“Well that won’t do, Dickie. Can you take a pill for the pain? I have some here you can take.”

Dick nodded his head to indicate that he can take pills but added, “B and Alfred usually give me half ‘cuz they say I’m too small.

Clark quickly cut a chalky tablet into two and passed Dick one half.

Clark settled in at the table, sitting across from Dick. He got right to the point,

“So kiddo, can you tell me why you were all by yourself in the middle of nowhere in the freezing cold?”

Dick shrugged and didn’t answer. Looking down into his mug of hot chocolate instead. 

Ok, maybe that was too direct too soon, Clark figured.

“Dickie, what was that song you were singing when I found you?”

Dick smiled brightly like he was remembering a fond memory,

“Oh! That was called, ‘Moş Crăciun cu plete dalbe’, it’s a Christmas song that means, ‘Santa Claus with his white hair’.”

Clark caught the way Dick’s bottom lip quivered slightly, 

“My mom used to sing that song to me during Christmas. My dad would sing it with her too sometimes,”

Dick took a shaky breath and added softly, 

“I-I sure do miss them, Uncle Clark.” 

Clark replied sadly,

“I know you do, Dickie. I’m so sorry. It must be even harder around the holidays.”

Dick shook his head,

“It’s always hard, Uncle Clark. I wish they were around. They never got mad at me or told me to leave. If they were here, Bruce wouldn’t have to deal with me. He would be happier without me.”

“What happened, Dickie? Did Bruce tell you to leave?”

“Yeah, after I said bad things to him. But I didn’t mean them Clark, please believe me.”

“What did you say, Sweetheart?”

“Well, B got mad at me for making a mistake when we were fighting a bad guy. He said I shouldn’t be Robin because I was too... wreckle?... reckles?-“

“Reckless?” Clark helped,

“-Yeah, sorry, that’s the word. B said I wasn’t listening to him and it was easier to be Batman without me there.”

Robin poked around at the bump on his head. Clark grabbed the little hand gently and pulled it back down. Dick carried on speaking,

“Uncle Clark, he said I shouldn’t be Robin so I told him that only my _real_ parents could take Robin away from me, and said they would hug me when I got hurt and not blame me. I said to B that his parents wouldn’t be proud of him because he was being a bad dad and not taking care of me.

Then he got really angry and yelled at me. He said that I should get out of his sight if I felt that way, and he’s not- he’s not my dad. He called me ‘ungrateful brat’...said he didn’t want to talk to me or see me .... so I left and I can’t go back. I don’t want to go back.”

Dick trembled a little but not from the cold. 

“Gee, kiddo. I’m so sorry. That sounds like it was a rough argument. It also sounds like you each said a lot of things you didn’t mean because you were both upset.”

Dick finished his hot chocolate in thoughtful silence and then asked,

“Clark, can you take me back to the treehouse now?”

“I beg your pardon? Take you back? Why?! You can stay with me for as long as you like.”

Dick answered softly, “I can’t stay with you. Even if I wanted to, you didn’t sign up to take in a kid. Look at B. He thought he wanted me, but now he hates me. I don’t want you to hate me too, Uncle Clark.”

Clark went over to Dick and wiped the tears off of his little cheeks. Clark moved Dick over to the couch and they sat down beside each other. Clark wrapped a large arm around his nephew and pulled the tiny boy into his warm side,

“Dickie, you can’t live in a treehouse alone. I won’t allow that.”

“I used to live in a trailer at the circus that was small like that,”

“But what will you do for food, and electricity, and heat and school?”, Clark paused and gasped, “and what about water and toilets Dickie?!”

“I’ll manage,” Dick’s brow furrowed adorably and Clark resisted the urge to plant a kiss on it, “kids in crime alley have to live like that everyday but even without the treehouse,”

“Hmm, well, those poor kids don’t have an Uncle who cares about them like you do. I love you too much to let you freeze or go hungry on the streets...er.. or in a treehouse for that matter.”

Dick crawled onto Clark’s lap and cuddled into his chest, Clark placed his chin on top of Dick’s head and hugged him close, 

“Hey Dick, you know, Alfred loves you too... he’s the one who called me to tell me that you didn’t come back home. Buddy, he was so worried about you.”

“B didn’t call you, did he?” Dick murmured, face buried into Clark’s muscles,

“No, but he would have been so worried too. I know him very well. You might not believe me right now, but trust me, you are the apple of his eye.”

Dick pulled away and stood up on his knees in Clark’s lap to look Clark dead in the eye... with a serious nose scrunch Dick squeaked out,

“I’m an apple?”

Clark roared with laughter at Dick’s naivety of the English language. The smart 9 year old had picked it up so well, but a lot of common phrases still eluded him. 

“Oh nevermind, sweetheart. It just means that he loves you. 

Ok well, you’re going to sleepover tonight and we will figure everything else out tomorrow. Now which movie do you want to watch and what do you want on your pizza?”

Dick perked up and asked, “can we watch Robin Hood, please??” referring to the old, animated Disney film. 

“Sure, I love that movie! Ok now what toppings do you want on your pizza?” Clark inquired as he picked up his cell phone to order,

“PICKLES!!!” Dick giggled hysterically,

“Alrighty, silly boy.... hmmm so I’ll get you olives and extra onions and lots of anchovies then?” 

Dick giggled even harder, and did Clark ever feel his heart leap for joy at that happy sound, 

“Nooooo! Please no!!! Umm, can you ask for cheese and pepperoni and just a few mushrooms?”

“You got it, pal!” 

Dick took a run at Clark and leapt like a monkey onto the bigger man’s back as he dialled the pizza joint.

——-////——-

Later when movies had been watched and pizza eaten, Clark watched his nephew’s peaceful face as he slept on the couch. He looked at Dick’s scabbed over lip, and checked on the bump on the boy’s forehead, the swelling looked a little better, but the bruising was starting to deepen in colour.

 _’how could any monster hit such an innocent kid?’_

Clark covered Dick with a throw blanket and double checked the sound of the steady heartbeat confirming that the boy was indeed sleeping.

He walked to his bedroom with his cell phone in hand and dialled a familiar number. 

The phone hadn’t even completed one full ring when the person on the other end answered,

“How is he, Clark?” 

Bruce’s gruff voice demanded to know immediately. The billionaire failed to conceal the obvious worry in his voice. 

“Bruce, he’s fine. Sleeping now. I fed him and he took half a pain pill. He said his head was hurting and I don’t blame him with that nasty looking bump,”

“Hn. Thanks.”

“Bruce, listen, I’m more concerned about his emotional state. He doesn’t want to lose Robin, I don’t believe he can handle losing that mantle. He feels guilty about what he said to you. He doesn’t think he can come home and I think he’s feeling that you don’t want him. 

Bruce, it’s clear that you mean a lot to him.”

After a long pause, Bruce stated,

“I’ll be there in the morning. Thanks, Clark.”

The line disconnected before Clark could wish Bruce a good night. Classic Batman, Clark figured.

——-////——

Bruce arrived at Clark’s door promptly at 8am. Clark assumed that Bruce had probably been in the area for a couple of hours already; likely circling the block waiting for a more normal time to knock on someone’s door.

“Good morning. Dick’s still sleeping. Coffee?” Clark asked his friend.

“Please.”

Clark ushered Bruce into the kitchen where the large framed crime fighter sat at the kitchen table. 

Clark noticed, but decided not to comment on the unshaven stubble smattered on Bruce’s jaw and the dark bags beneath his eyes. Clearly, Bruce had not slept at all. 

Clark slid the cup of coffee along with some tiny cups of cream and a bowl of sugar in front of Bruce. Bruce picked up the mug and downed the black coffee as it was.

“Hn, I see that you still choose to drink dirt in a can,” Bruce teased.

“Oh please, not all of us care to get specialty coffee beans imported in from the other side of the world,” Clark jabbed back playfully. 

An awkward silence fell upon the room. Clark decided to break it by asking, 

“So, Bruce, I was wondering, that treehouse that I found Dick in, the one on the edge of your property, how long has that been there?”

“ _That’s_ where you found him?” Bruce asked as he stiffened, “he’s not supposed to go in there. I told him that it was not stable and needed to be torn down.”

“Oh, I believe it, it was damp and the wood looked to be rotting. It’s lucky he didn’t fall through the floor.” Clark added.

“Indeed. We spotted it once months ago while on a run around the grounds.” Bruce paused, “he seemed intrigued by it and I had planned on getting a new one constructed for him to play in.”

“Well, all I know is that he asked me to take him back there to live permanently as nobody wanted him.”

Bruce sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose at Clark’s words. 

The men drank their coffee in peace for a few moments until that silence was broken by the sound of little feet pitter-pattering through the small hallway, 

“Heyyy Uncle Clark!!! Do you have a spare toothbrus....”

Dick froze in the kitchen entryway and stared at Bruce.

Clark was tempted to scoop up his adorable nephew and give him a huge hug, but resisted due to the gravity of the situation. 

Dick looked as cute as a button in his too short pyjama bottoms and top riding up slightly. Seems that he _had_ grown since the last visit. 

Dick’s jet black hair spiked up at odd angles and he had dried up crusty drool marks on the side of his chin. 

His eyes popped wide open at the sight of Bruce sitting there. His blue eyes matching the bruise on his forehead from his last patrol with Batman.

Bruce stared back at Dick awkwardly, looking him up and down, no doubt assessing to make sure he was ok on the outside.

Bruce made the first move and approached Dick. He crouched down, looked into the boy’s eyes, and lightly ran a hand through his hair. Bruce lightly grazed his thumb over Dick’s facial injury. 

The young acrobat winced at first from this contact, but remained completely still, not saying anything and just stared at his guardian. 

“Oh chum....”, Bruce uttered softly,

That was the moment when Dick’s emotional dam burst. He dropped his head down and began to wail. All of his grief, pain and fear of abandonment chose to emerge in that moment. 

Bruce simply grabbed onto Dick and pulled him into a tight and protective hug. 

Clark could hear Bruce’s ragged breathing as Dick sobbed openly.

Clark bit his lip, and felt a lump tighten in his throat. _‘don’t cry, don’t cry, stay strong Clark, don’t cry’_

When Dick had finally calmed down, Bruce asked,

“Well, should we go home, chum? Back to the manor which is your home too. Alfred is baking some cookies.”

“Yes please, B.”

Bruce turned to leave and Dick jumped into Clark’s arms,

“thank you for taking care of me, Uncle Clark! And for the movies and the pizza and everything else! You wanna know something, Uncle Clark?” 

“Yes, what is it kiddo?”

“You’re _**my**_ eye apples!!” Dick kissed Clark on the cheek and then leapt down dashing to the door. 

Bruce stopped in his tracks as Dick zoomed by. He turned and asked Clark,

“Care to explain? Apples?”

Clark laughed out loud and blushed bright red, “... ‘apple of my eye’, he meant to say” 

“Ah”, Bruce smirked. 

Clark just hoped that nickname wouldn’t stick.

——-////——

A few days later, Clark returned home from work to find a large package at his door.

He opened it to find a shiny new and obviously very expensive espresso machine along with several specialty varieties of coffee beans from around the world. 

The note accompanying the gift read,

_’Clark, thank you so much for caring for Dick. I hope you will enjoy this more than your canned dirt. -Regards, Bruce’_

There was also a little drawing of an apple and a face with an arrow pointing towards the eye on the bottom of the card that looked very much like it was drawn by a certain 9 year old boy.


End file.
